


4. Panic

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard [4]
Category: Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-01 12:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	4. Panic

Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard: panic  
 **players only. takes place the morning after Alex ties one on with Luke.**

Alex slept like shit. He should have slept like the dead, considering the intense scene last night. But instead he was restless, lying awake in the dark for hours and watching Luke sleep, thoughts hurtling through his brain at a hundred miles an hour.

He lost control. He fucking _lost_ it, and Alex does not do that. He simply doesn't let himself. He hurt Luke, made him bleed, and it was completely irresponsible. Fucking a sub raw doesn't bother him in principle; hell no, he loves the brutality of it with a sick hunger. But he doesn't even know Luke. Should never have let himself go off on the man when he had no idea whether or not Luke could take it.

Add to that how he fucked up by licking Luke's blood - And what the fuck was that? He doesn't even play with blood, not even when he knows the person is safe, which of course he doesn't in this case - and he can barely contain his fury with himself.

So it is that Alex is up soon after dawn the next morning, because he simply can't stand to lie in bed any longer. He showers quickly, trying to keep it quiet as he dresses for the day. Then he spends a couple hours on the couch with a novel after raiding Luke's bookshelves. He will not bail on Luke, will not walk out while he's sleeping -- that would just make a shitty situation even worse. He will suck it up and wait till Luke wakes and they'll have a nice civilized breakfast and then he'll make a polite goodbye.

That's what he tells himself, anyway.

When Luke finally stirs, he finds himself alone in his bed. He assumes Alex has left until he hears him clearing his throat in the living room. Thank god. Last night was one of the most intense scenes he's ever experienced and to be left alone, well, he doesn't even want to think about it. He slips from the bed, uses the washroom and pulls on his pajama bottoms. "Good morning," he says with a smile, poking his head into the living room before he goes to the couch and bends down, pressing a kiss to Alex's lips. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah," Alex lies, and can't resist tangling his fingers gently in Luke's hair and pulling him back in for another kiss. _Fuck_. "Coffee's ready," he says, returning his gaze to his book, well, Luke's book. "I didn't want to mess around in your kitchen for anything more. I'm not a great chef anyway."

Luke groans softly into the kiss. "I can make us breakfast," he says, straightening up with another smile. "Omelettes, pancakes... what are you in the mood for?"

"Pancakes, seriously?" Alex asks, looking up at him again in delighted surprise. _Christ, I'm an asshole_ , he realizes. "You really shouldn't put yourself out, though," he amends. "I mean... how are you feeling this morning?"

Luke grins. "I'm great, a little sore," he allows over his shoulder, heading for the kitchen. "But nothing I can't handle."

Alex watches him go, a little stunned. He didn't expect Luke to be so... perky, after last night. Rubbing his hand over his eyes, he then returns to the book he's reading, only to find he can concentrate on the plot even less now than he could earlier.

Luke pulls out a bowl, flour and sugar from the cupboard, milk and eggs from the fridge and places everything on the counter. He digs into the back of another cabinet for a frying pan and sets it on the stove, lightly oiled. "Any chance I can get you to set the table?" he asks, when he has everything mixed together.

"Yeah, of course." It's a stupid book anyway. Alex sets it aside on the coffee table with a sigh then heads into the kitchen, picking up last night's discarded condom wrapper on the way. He recalls well enough from yesterday morning where to find things, and soon he's waiting at the set table, trying to find anything in the kitchen to look at other than Luke.

"So you said your sister was visiting," Luke says, flipping pancakes and piling them onto a plate under a warm clean tea towel as they're cooked. "Is it just you and her?" he asks.

"No, I've got four younger brothers," Alex replies. Then he explains with a shrug, "Winters are long in Sweden. For most of the year there's not a lot to do other than fuck." He chuckles, shaking his head. "And I guess body heat is cheaper than firewood, too."

Luke laughs. "Five brothers and sisters?" His mind boggles. "I'm an only," he supplies helpfully, grabbing the maple syrup and butter from the fridge and placing them on the table before returning to the frying pan.

"That... must have been weird," Alex says, then rolls his eyes at himself. "I mean, not for you. I just can't imagine it." He frowns down at a bar of sunlight crossing the table. He doesn't usually have this kind of trouble making conversation. Hell, ordinarily he wouldn't even bother with it, he'd just keep himself busy by going and getting Luke all hot and bothered at the stove, then he'd torment him by making him stay that way until after breakfast. "Um. Did you always want to be an actor?"

"Yes, but not in movies," Luke says, finally setting the pan in the sink and bringing their plates over. "I'm a singer and I started out on stage. I only got into movies two years ago. Clash of the Titans? Before that I did Rent, Miss Saigon, Taboo -- a whole bunch of stuff in the West End."

"You're a singer?" Alex asks, surprised. "I'm impressed," he adds, managing to wait politely until Luke is settled before grabbing for his fork. "I can't sing. Can't sing, can't cook..." He shrugs, spreading his hands in a 'What can you do?' gesture. Then he snags the butter.

"But you're a brilliant actor and an amazing dom," Luke says with a smile, popping a biteful of pancake into his mouth.

Those words... ordinarily Alex would smirk and let a boy flatter him. Right now, though... "Yeah, about that last part," he says, setting down his fork after only a few bites. He's been hungry for hours, but now his stomach just churns uneasily. He folds his hands on the table and takes a breath, then tells Luke, "I'm not going to be able to see you the rest of this week, like we'd talked about."

Luke stills, fork in mid-air. "Why not?"

 _Damn it._ What happened to that agreeable obedient boy, the one from yesterday? Alex had been hoping against hope that Luke wouldn't ask for an explanation. "Look, I was very irresponsible with you last night," he says quietly, hoping to keep this simple. "Careless. I shouldn't have fucked you until you bled, or hurt you like that, and..." he blows out a breath. "I'm not going to let myself lose control like that with you again."

"Why not? I liked it," Luke says pointedly. "You didn't do anything last night that I didn't want, and look at me, I'm fine today. I'm no worse for wear other than being a bit sore."

"Good," Alex says after a moment, eyeing him like the boy's suddenly speaking in tongues. "But that's not the point. I don't know you, Luke. We don't know each other. And it was wrong of me to play so hard with you when I had no idea whether or not you'd be all right with it."

"If I wasn't, I would have safeworded," Luke responds, pushing his plate away.

Now Alex just stares at him. Maybe he's been fucking Citadel slaves for too long: he's simply not used to a submissive questioning him. Or his decisions. "I didn't give you a chance."

Luke stares back. What the fuck is with Alex? Since when did what they were doing together become ALL his responsibility? "When? When you shoved your cock into me, at which point I could have screamed red, or when you licked the blood from my ass, at which point I could also have safeworded? I'm telling you, if I'd needed you to stop at any time, you would have known."

This is not working. "Christ, you're not listening to me," Alex mutters, dragging a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"No, I'm not," Luke says. "Because I really like you and I thought you liked me and now you're making decisions for both of us which seem to ignore that I'm a grown man who can take care of himself."

"I do like you," Alex snaps, and _fuck_ it is so not like him to raise his voice in anger. He grinds his teeth, trying to get himself back under control, but when he speaks again his voice is still just a touch too loud. "I fucked up, Luke. It's unacceptable to me, do you get that?"

"So, instead of trying again, you're going to walk away, just cut your losses, and _that's_ acceptable?"

 _Christ_. Alex fists his hand on the table, then consciously unclenches each of his fingers. "I play rough," he says quietly. "And the people I usually play with" _are professionals_ "are a lot more experienced than you are. I'm trying to protect you."

"No, you're not. You're trying to protect yourself," Luke says, getting up from the table with his plate.

That hits home. Hard, and it takes Alex a moment before he pushes to his feet. He sets his plate on the counter by the sink, but then just stands there for a minute, considering. "Maybe I am," he says softly, even as he wonders why the hell he's bothering. "I don't like to lose control. And... I don't want you to hurt me." God, there it is. Maybe the two things sound unrelated, but to Alex they're inextricably linked.

Shit. Luke rubs a hand over his face. Here he'd been gearing up to kick Alex out. Get out while he still could and the man says _that_. "The thing is," he says, every bit as softly, reaching out to touch Alex's hand, "the only meaningful experiences in life come from taking a chance, from giving up control, from opening ourselves to possibly being hurt."

"I try not to have meaningful experiences," Alex murmurs, smiling slightly. "They tend to leave scars." He links his fingers with Luke's, looking down at their joined hands. And it's too fucking late, he realizes. This thing with Luke, so incredibly intense in such a short span of time -- it's already left a mark on him. On that epiphany he looks up at Luke's face, searching his eyes like he'll find guarantees there. Tentative, he dips his head and brushes his lips over Luke's. Questioning.

Luke moans softly, his other hand going to the back of Alex's neck, pulling him down, deeper into the kiss. He wants this, wants Alex so badly. There's no choice for him in stepping back. He's already going to be hurt if Alex walks away.

That moan -- it squeezes Alex's heart like a fist. He brings his arms up to wrap them around Luke, but he brushes the still-hot stove in the process and burns himself slightly. He curses and shakes his hand out, but that's really all the time Alex can spare; in the next second he's yanking Luke down to the floor with him, rolling the boy to his back and burying himself in Luke's mouth.

Luke moans again, shoving his hands into Alex's hair and kissing back for all he's worth.

In a mere second it's too much. Alex tugs sharply at Luke's pajama bottoms, then kneels up to tear at his own clothing, desperate to feel hot skin against skin. He rolls to his back for the moment necessary to skim out of his jeans, but then he's back on top of Luke, closing his hand around their cocks and working them together, licking hungrily at Luke's throat.

"Oh god," Luke gasps, thrusting his cock against Alex's, through the circle of his fingers. "Yes, please," his throat bared eagerly, pleasure shoving him hard towards the edge. "Please..."

"Come for me," Alex orders, his voice hoarse. " _With_ me." He sinks his teeth into Luke's throat, grinding them together. Needing to mark the boy.

"Yes, sir," Luke cries out, his whole body stiffening beneath Alex, pleasure slamming through him as his cock spurts again and again.

Feeling Luke lose control tips Alex right over the edge. He bucks against him, trying to choke back a groan. And then he just lies there, breath thundering in his chest, the two of them hot and wet and messy on the kitchen floor. It's fucking perfect, and Alex grins, his first genuine smile all morning. "You're incredible," he whispers, lifting his head so he can kiss Luke. And he's not just referring to the sex.

"So are you," Luke whispers, stunned that they've gone from Alex almost walking out to this.  

Alex smiles faintly, studying Luke's eyes. Then he lifts his clean hand to the man's throat, pressing his fingers lightly against the livid purple bruise there. "Is this going to be a problem when you go back to work?"

"No. I'll cover it up," Luke says with a smile, touching his throat as well.

"Good." Alex nods, then eases back and holds a hand out to Luke. "Let's go clean up," he says, already thinking about the hours ahead. "Do you have plans today?"

"No." Luke laughs, taking Alex's hand and pushing to his feet. "Actually, I pretty much did everything yesterday so I could have a lazy day today."

"Mmm." Alex links their fingers together again as they head for the shower. "Want some lazy company?" He's feeling needy in a way that's very unusual for him -- feeling like if he leaves Luke now, this fragile new equilibrium between them might shatter.

More than a little surprised, Luke gives Alex a huge grin. "I would love some," he says, not even trying to temper his reaction.

Alex grins back, feeling that bright smile spread warmth through him like sunshine. "Good."  



End file.
